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Class ^_S 11 4± 
Book_.„fcTA. 
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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



POEMS 



BY 



JAMES B. KENYON 



NEW YORK 
EATON & MAINS 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two COHifcS HtCEiveo 

)UL. 25 1901 

Copyright entry 
CLASS «lyXXe. N*. 

COPY a. 






COPYRIGHT, EATON & MAINS, igos 



Cover design by Mae Wallace McCastline 



THB. SINGING PILGRIM 

Content^ with meager scrip and pilgrim staff, 
Singing he journeys through the changejul years; 

At whiles, he stays to laugh with those who laugh ; 
Anon^ his way lies through the Vale of Tears. 



CONTENTS 

TWILIGHT AND MUSIC i 

REJUVENESCENCE 5 

THE NEW POET 6 

EVOLUTION 7 

THE THRALL OF SLEEP 8 

THE REFLUENT WAVE II 

FORGOTTEN I2 

THE PLAY 13 

IMOGEN IN THB CAVE OF BELARIUS 14 

A MEMORY 16 

A RUINED ROSEBUD 16 

A BROKEN DREAM 17 

A WIFE 17 

WITHDRAWN 18 

BECALMED 19 

A WOMAN 19 

FROM AN ANCIENT URN 20 

LOVE IS DEAD 21 

THE HARLEQUIN 22 

ATAVISM 23 

NOW SLEEPS THE BREATHING EARTH 23 

VAE VICTIS 24 

A FOOL TODAY, A SAINT TOMORROW 25 

ET EGO IN ARCADIA 25 

APRIL 27 

A GREAT MAN 28 

THE CRISIS 29 

CHARACTER 3i 



MAIDEN AND BRIDE 3i 

THE SHELL 32 

DEFEATED 33 



THE JESTER 

THE POTTER'S CLAY 

A HAUNTED HEART 



AT SUNSET 

THE VEILED DESTINY 



IN THE MARKET-PLACE 



ANTICIPATION 

A VOICE FROM RAMA 

AT THE WINDOW 



THE PRISONER AND THE LARK 37 

OPPORTUNITY 



40 

THE ENDLESS RENEWING -41 

ROBERT BROWNING 42 

AD VESPERAM 44 

THE LAST SHELTER *^ 

THE FIRST SNOWFALL 4^ 

A PAVEMENT FOSSIL 47 

THE PURSUIT OF FAME 4Q 

THE UPPER REALMS 5° 

RECOMPENSE ^° 

THE PARTING Si 

TO 52 

THH FRUITFUL YEAR 53 

THE NEV/-COMER 53 

THE BLIND ARCHER 54 



AFTER THE BRIDAL " 57 



58 



MILTON 59 



LITTLE FOOTFALLS 66 

R. L. S. 67 

A SONG OF THE HILLTOP 6« 

THE HEART OF A BOY $9 

SING A SONG OF SIXPENCE fj: 

CRADLE SONGS ,(» 

SHADOWS OF THE SANCTUARY 

HOMEWARD 82 

"HE BRINGETH THE WIND" 82 

"LIKE AS WE ARE" 84 

CONSIDER THE LILIES 85 

THE QUEST 87 

THE GOLDEN AGB 88 

WEARY go 

PAIN QO 

SURRENDER 93 

DOUBT AND FAITH 94 

MYSTERY 95 

"THE CLOUDS ARE THE DUST OF HIS FEET" 96 

WASTED 97 

THE STRICKEN KING 98 

THE SECRET MINISTRIES loo 

THE ANCHORITE loi 

HEROES 102 

LIFE TRIUMPHANT I03 




TWILIGHT AND MUSIC 

I HE ran her fingers o^cr the ivory keys, 
And shook a prelude from them, as a bird 
SiKikes from its throat a song. 

Then from a mist 
Of flttctttant melody I saw arise 
Green slopes descending to a murmuring sea; 
A conscious heaven, like a love-wreathed face. 
Smilingly brooded o'er the raptured earth; 
Cool waters took the light from marge to marge. 
Doubling the sky, the trees, the fir-fledged shores, 
With tremulous joy in their inverted world. 
I heard beneath the deepening rose of dawn 
The first clear f lutings of a dew- wet throat 
Where from some claustral dell, faint as a dream. 
Floated the breath of waking violets. 

The music changed : she the enchantress sat 
With white neck glimmering where the tresses fine 
Flowed ripplingly about her, and her head. 
Poised like a lily, delicately drooped 
Above the nimble hands that wrought the charm. 



Now Spring passed thf ougii the orchards, naked boaghe 

"Were clothed with beauty, love-forsaken paths 

Grew vocal with the bliss of nesting-timet 

And where her light feet fall the crocus flamed. 

The secret fires that in the dark had burned 

Beneath the sod through "Winter^s frozen hours 

Shot up in spires of grass and curling ferns, 

While warm airs, balmy as the lids of sleep, 

Lifted the cowslip by gnat-haunted fens. 

A myriad jocund sounds from near and far 

Commingled— the shrill challenge of the cock, 

The plowman shouting to his team afield, 

The clang of smitten anvils, droning bees, 

And sparrows twittering round the moss-grown eav«s. 

Again the music changed : a crash of notes. 
Loud, stridulous, contused «pon the ear, 
Startled the beauteous vision into flight. 
Through slanted rain I saw the shivering trees. 
Lashed by a tempest, stoop their suppliant heads, 
While through the murky air the tortured leaves 
"Went whirling down the blast. Black rolling clouds, 



Poftcntotis, huge, and crammed with fiery bolts. 
Sent sudden warnings forth with peal on peal 
Of awful detonation. Pleasant bowers, 
Sweet with the whisperings of old tender tales 
In long forgotten Junes, now stripped and frayed. 
Stared sadly round the ruined borders w^here 
The broken, drenched, wind-beaten blossoms lay. 
Then sullenly behind the bastioned hills 
Sank the maned thunder-heads with muffled growls. 
The sun laughed out from vapors of pearl and gold, 
And earth breathed peace once more. 

Her smooth young cheek, 
Flushed with the hues of health, in purest curves 
Leaned sidewise, and the lashes downw^ard dropped 
Curtained the inward glow of her chaste eyes. 
Then for an instant on the twilight fell 
A silence, while her fluttering hands were stayed 
Above the expectant keys; till one by one, 
Low mournful notes crept out uppn the dusk. 
And autumn winds sobbed round the barren fields. 
And rustled in the melancholy aisles 
Of desolate woodlands. By leaf-smothered streams 
Swayed w^ithered stalk? that in the Summer's prime. 



Fanned softly by the night-moth's venturous wings. 
Had caught in fragrant urns the starry dews. 
And spilt fine incense on the enamored air. 
Slowly from out the shadows drew a shape 
Which, thin and indeterminate in the gloom, 
Melted and grew again upon my sight, 
When like a balefire wavered into form 
A death's head crowned with myrtle. 

The pale night 
Closed in at length, and through the dark I heard 
A sound of cradled waters; far away 
Tolled solemnly a bell; a requiem 
Chanted by hollow voices, rose and fell, 
Ever approaching, ever receding still; 
Cressets whose flames flared backward dipped and tossed. 
As if o'er rugged ways by careless hands 
Borne onward round a bier. Then at my feet» 
On the dim verge forlorn and unexplored, 
The languid waves pulsed softly; winds blew chill, 
And I awoke to see her upturned face. 
Smiling and lovely, as the music diede 



REJUVENESCENCE 

^^^^^HE warm light streams o'er Enaa's sunny plaio^ 

kCW^^ Round wliicli the yellow bees still rove in 

F^ag^l vain ? 

Not now, as erstwhile in the golden prime, 

"White ankles twinkle through the purple thyme, 

While bearded grass and blossoms honey-sweet 

Bend at the sudden touch of slender feet« 

Long since the blooms fled at the loud alarms 

Of ruthless traffic. In her sun-brow^ned arms 

Bearing her water-jar, no maiden goes 

Where through the sedge the glancing fountain flows 

With song less blithe than hers in whose dark eyes. 

Timid yet glad, love's dawning glory lies. 

The dust long since has mingled with her heart. 

And he whose love she bore sleeps where the dart 

Of the proud Tyrian pierced him in the fray : 

Gone, gone the bliss and pain of that old day — 

The shepherd fluting on his notched reed. 

The neatress calling through the dusky brede 

Of haunted woodlands, and the answering bell 

"Where straying kine browse in the shady delL 



Afid yet^ for eyes that see, these days which pass 
Kindle a splendor in the ancient grass; 
Still on the heights the ageless wonder shines 
V/here morn and even set their btf rning signs. 
Yea, whoso keeps his early vision clear 
Beholds the footprints of the immortals near, 
And sees their garments trailing from the brier 
Where the light gossamer shakes its beads of fire. 
And there is room to-day for valorous deeds, 
For troth's high ministry to htiman needs. 
And wheresoever love has its trembling birth 
Its wizardry renews the hoary earth? 
Thtis evermore, down morning paths dew -pearled. 
The spirit of delight walks through the world. 



THE NEW POET 

^ E comes not, though we tarry long ; 
He comes not — and the noon is near ; 
The anxious world awaits his song ; 
i^Len hush their very hearts to hear. 




The morning, pearled with dew and rain^ 
In raiment light as mists that pass. 

Peered tiptoe thr ottgh her vines in vain 
To see his footsteps star the grass. 

And still the orphaned hours take wing ; 

The languid earth can scarce rejoice 
Mid buds that blow and birds that sing. 

Lacking the witchery of his voice. 

"Vet we may pass him where he stands 
Smiled on by the benignant skies, 

Fresh daisies in his sun-browned hands — 
A homeless lad with dreamy eyes, 

EVOLUTION 



HE dull brute reveled in primeval slime ; 

Then to a naked soul the Lord said, **Go, 
Dwell yonder in that groveling flesh till time 

O^er the sloped forehead make lovers white- 
ness flow^/' 




So to the beast went down the unclothed soul, 
Abode in twilight, wallowed in the mire, 

"Writhed in the serpent, borrowed with the mole, 
Till the dim eons waked it to aspire. 

Then tip through tortuous shapes it rudely grew. 
Saw the long night expand into the day, 

Found its own self, and round it slowly drew 
A human vestment from the sullen clay. 

And still it grows past what the eye can see ; 

Climbs austere peaks of hope to breathe Heaven^s air 
Above the refuse of mortality, 

Nor frets to know what form it yet shall wear. 



THE THRALL OF SLEEP 

OES the time seem very long, 
"While you lie beneath the grass, 

Listening to the blackbird's song 
And the wings that come and pass ? 




Some a moment pause and wait — 
Shy wild things that love the trees — 

Gurgling to each feathered mate 
Little love-fraught symphonies. 

Are you weary lying there 

"While the clouds float overhead, 

And, through cool and fragrant air, 
Sift their dews upon your bed ? 

Do you never long to rise 
And, amid the ways of men. 

Catch the light of tender eyes. 
Hear some kindly speech again? 

Do you dream of seasons gone 

"When the thorn was white with bloom. 
And behind the peaks of dawn 

Sank the winter's chill and gloom ? 

Then love found you, and your heart. 
Brimmed with music like a bird's. 

Mid its vine-leaves sang apart, 
Raptured with its own sweet words. 



But the shadow doom-like fell, 
And the light died in eclipse, 

And the silence laid its spell 
On your heart and on your lips ♦ 

And the stimmers come and go, 

And the stin wheels round and round. 

And the winter's punctual snow 
Softly wraps your peaceful mound. 

Are you thus content to lie. 

All so quiet in your place. 
Turning ever toward the sky 

Your unmoved and pallid face? 

Tell me, does there sometimes creep 
Through your veins the old desire, 

Sundering all the bonds of sleep, 
Mounting like a sudden fire ? 

And as spring moves up the slope, 
In the fond voice of the dove 

Hear you, too, the voice of Hope, 
** "Waken, waken, waken, love ? *^ 




THE REFLUENT WAVE 
I 
AILY we dwell beneath the selfsame roof ; 
Our unaverted eyes meet as of yore ; 
In small fair household courtesies, as before, 
Our self-forgetfulness is put to proof ; 
"We tread a common path, nor hold aloof 
From the old scenes which erstwhile wreathed our door 
With Eden's early grace, yet more and more 
Our woven lives are severed, warp and woof. 

Not now, as once, a simple flower imparts 

Its tender tale to our united souls ; 
Our hands clasp, but no answering gladness starts 

"Wave-like from ^ones where love's deep ocean rolls ; 
We speak, we smile, we mingle, yet our hearts 

Are sundered each from each wide as the poles. 

II 

Still — still — who knows? a touch, a tear, a sigh, 
A sweet remembered word, some sudden way 
Of speech, awaking memories of a day 

When earth laughed forth in bloom, and all tke sky 



II 



Gccvr opalent with love's own vermeil dye, — 
Who knows but one of these, like magic, may 
Restore the glory, and the raptwrotts sway, 

Within the heart, of hair and lip and eye ? 

Echoes that haunt the silence of the past, 
Visions of joy that keep a vigil vain, 

Fond ghosts that wander in the rayless, vast. 
Unhallowed night with empty cries of pain, — 

Who knows but these may all prevail at last. 
And love's receding wave rush back again ? 



FORGOTTEN 

LITTLE mound beneath the pine 

Upon the gradual slope, 
"Where wandering tendrils of the vine 
Like tremulous fingers grope ; 
There happy birds the livelong day 

Ruffle their slender throats, 
And in the slanting sunbeams play 
A myriad glancing motes* 



12 




A handful of forgotten earth 

Beneath the hushed cool flowers, 
Its backward span from, death to birth 

Numbered but days and hours ; 
Yet plenteous tears bedewed the sod 

That wrapt the roseleaf face, 
"When breaking hearts gave back to God 

This guerdon of his grace. 

Years wheel like shadows o^er the grass ; 

Dust are the hearts that bled ; 
Rumors of change that come and pass 

Vex not this little bed. 
O sleep that knows no evil dreams^ 

O dove-white, sinless breast, 
We, wearying mid Time's tearful gleams. 

Envy thine early rest. 

THE PLAY 



i 



HE endless mime goes on ; new faces come. 
New mummers babble in each other's ears ; 

And some wear masks of woe, of laughter some. 
Nor know they play Life's Comedy of Tears. 



13 




IMOGEN IN THE CAVE OF BELARIUS 

' I am sick still, heartsick. Pisanio, 
I'll now taste of thy drug." 

— Cymbeline. 

HAT is this that o^ef me steals — 

Death, or death^s sweet counterfeit ? 
"What is this my braised heart feels 
That medicines the grief of it? 
Softly, softly let me lie. 
If I sleep, or if I die* 

Not the obscene things of night 

Beat with bat-like v/ings the gloom — 

Seraphs in hushed downward flight 
Narrow towards my rocky room; 

And the head of each fair one 

Wears a halo like the sun. 

Exhalations from the grave 

Steep not yet my closing eyes % 
Round this ribbed and flinty cave 

Very dew of heaven lies; 
And cool strewments, fresh as May, 
Keep the virgin smiles of day» 



14 



Sad and weary was I grown — 

Peace the dove now warms my breast ; 
Wintry winds have on me blown — 

Zephyrs now breathe round my rest ; 
At my feet and at my head 
Gentle warders watch my bed. 

And if haply, lying here, 

To me he should somehow come, 
CXer me he might shed a tear 

For the orphaned lips struck dumb; 
Or, in memory of past bliss, 
On my forehead lay his kiss. 

But I reck not what may be ; 

Couched within this crypt-like place, 
Let the furred moss cover me. 

Ruddocks mask with leaves my race; 
Softly, softly shall I lie, 
If I sleep, or if I die. 



15 




A MEMORY 

ETWIXT the blown sands and the flowing sea 
We stood at nightfall. In the hollow west 
The ultimate torch of day flared for a space, 
Sank and expired, A wind whined round the dunes, 
And ragged shreds of vapor, salt and chill, 
"Went by us in the flaw* We had no tear 
To shed, no word to say* Our stricken heads 
"Were bowed together, and her streaming hair 
Swept o'er my cheek. Swiftly the gray night fell 
And like a huge hand blotted sea and shore* 
I heard her garments rustle in the gloom ; 
A moment on my breast she laid her brow, 
Then turned and from the darkness where she fled, 
A sob came down the gust* *Twas ages since. 
But memory still broods on that black hour* 

A RUINED ROSEBUD 

HERE the lamps flare beneath the rainy skies. 
On the drenched stones a sodden rosebud lies ; 
And nigh it, huddled in a loathsome heap, 
Maunders a wretched girl in drunken sleep. 

i6 





A BROKEN DREAM 

night I dreamed of peace, and throtjgh 
deep vales 
Wandered where perfume-haunted winds 
blew free, 
And saw, like summer swallows, purple sails 
Slant o'er the darkling sea* 

The gray morn rose ; along the lurid east 
I saw War's torn and bloody ensign float. 

And the swart cannon, like a huge blind beast, 
Roared from its brazen throat. 



A WIFE 

O angel she ; she hath no budding wings j 
No mystic halo circles her bright hair ; 

But lo I the infinite grace of little things, 
Wrought for dear love's sake, makes her very 
fair. 



17 





WITHDRAWN 

HERE nun-faced violets, dashed with silver 
dew, 
Hide in the moss-lipped hollows of the 
bank, 
And slender osier wands, reared rank on rank, 
Sw^ay o'er the waters kissed to heaven's own blue ; 
Where breathing winds balsamic odors strew^ 
Far sweeter than Persephone e'er drank 
In that pale garden where dream-zephyrs prank 
The dim. gray slopes with rosemary and rue — 

There dwells she whose white soul is like the eve 
When the clear sun has vanished from the skies, 

And the large stars, amid the twilight, weave 

Through trance • hushed leaves their wiz ard traceries ; 

There steal no rumors of the world to grieve 
The lucid innocence of her calm eyes. 



l8 




BECALMED 

HE purple skyline found the dead waste sea 
Shimmers athwart the palpitating heat ; 
Along the blistered deck no scurrying feet 
Are heard, nor any cheery songs to free 
The seaman^s treadmill task from drudgery ; 
Against the masts the sails have ceased to beat 
Their light tattoo, while windless vapors cheat 
The haggard eyes that watch perpetually. 

O soul becalmed, pray God some breeze may fill 
Thine idle canvas, and the wakened deep 

Rise and dispute thy perilous way, until 

Thy foam-wreathed prow shall o'er the billows leap. 

And with the joy of conquest all a-thrill. 
To port at last with pennons proudly sweep. 

A WOMAN 

^ER eyes are deeps of trustfulness j she waits 
To open wide to love her heart's white gates. 
And, like Alcestis, happy she to give 
Her life, if so Admetus still may live. 



19 





FROM AN ANCIENT URN 

I TR ANGER, pause ; Fclicitas, 
Of all of mortal that she was, 
[Lies within this little urn ; 
Of her virtues wouldst thou learn, 
Of her truth-enkindled eye, 
Of her snow-white chastity. 
Of her nature wise and pure, 
Of her trust that did endure 
Past the falsehood, scorn, and shame 
Heaped upon her spotless name ? — 
Then within his lonely house 
Seek her -weeping, widowed spouse : 
He will tell thee, through his tears, 
How amid these human years. 
Once a spirit from above 
Bore for him the flower of love. 
Till on a sudden she did pass 
Home to heaven — Felicitas. 




LOVE IS DEAD 

dOW Love is dead t 

jFold close each filmy van j 

[Twine round his fallen head 

"White roses ere their leaves be shed. 

The winds alone shall fan 

The clustering locks back from his pallid brow j 

A touch of fingers howeVr light 

Were all too heavy on those temples -white 

And waxen cheeks. 

Now let his grave be made 

There where the laurePs shade 

Dusks the small brook that seeks 

To quench its sobs mid trailing grasses green« 

Dear Love I How glad his eyes, 

In the old days when under kinder skies, 

JVlid flowers with bursting buds between 

And butterflies afloat. 

He shook his dewy throat 

And sang for very joy 

Of life, poor boy ! 

Now he is dead j 



21 



The year is fled 

Beyond recall^ 

And where the blossoms all 

Overhung his happy bower, birds are mute, 

And wandering breezes flute 

A melancholy strain. 

Bury him out of sight, 

Bury him from the light. 

Alike from joy and pain. 

From sun and rain. 

There is not one to w^eep 

That he is gone, so let his grave be deep. 

And nothing more be said, 

For Love is dead. 

THE HARLEQUIN 



HO laughs in motley to the crowded court. 
And makes for idle days an idle sport, 
May teach us yet, in life's impartial school, 
^Tis we wc2^t asses' ears and play the fool. 



22 




ATAVISM 

^^1^ Y, it was so — to the dwsk r iver -side 
^(EsIlt^ Glided an Indian girl^ lithe as a fawn^ 
2£L^lfi0The while, half-naked, bow in hand I crouched 

Low in the rushes, stirring not a leaf 

And scarcely breathing, as she softly stept 

Into her slim canoe and shot it forth 

Straight as an arrow on its noiseless path ; 

Then mist and darkness quenched her like a star, 

And all my wild heart's longing followed her. 

This was a thousand years ago, and yet 

My blood leaps with the flame of that old love. 

NOW SLEEPS THE BREATHING EARTH 

OW sleeps the breathing earth ; 
Above, like an inverted cup, 
jSmoke-stained and dim, upsoars the night-filled 
sky. 
Swift to their birth 
Come myriad ephemerae that die 
Ere morn hath clambered up 
The eastern crags to set her gonfalon 




23 



Against the clouds. 

Behold, anon. 

The mists wrap their cold shrouds 

About the willows where the sobbing stream 

Forgets its jocund day-song. Let me dream, 

O let me dream, now that the dark is come ; 

Now that the stridulous voices all are dumb 

"Which maddened sunlit hours ; 

Yea, let me dream; the night-moths haunt the flowers, 

While nesting birds stir on the sheltering bough. 

And one large star, poised o'er the hilPs dusk brow. 

Glows like a lamp. 

A fragrant damp 

Falls on the world ; O fevered breast. 

Drink thou the balm of rest. 



VAE VICTIS 

ONG sleeps Delilah; but at Ga^a still 

The shorn deluded Samsons sweat and grind 

Amid the dust and clangor of the mill. 
Treading their sordid round, forever blind. 



24 





A FOOL TO-DAY, A SAINT TO-iVLORROW 

^ MOTHER earth, within thine ample breast 
Make for thy weary child a quiet bed ; 
The mob hath raged about his bloody head j 
Now fold him to thy heart and let him rest. 

At length his spirit sinks, his pulses faint : 
Yet while men stoned him he spared not to cry 
Against their darling sins ; now let him die, 

To-day a fool, to-morrow lo I a saint. 



ET EGO IN ARCADIA 

HAVE been there ; Fve seen the clear 
Blue hills through lucent atmosphere, 
[Bright streams that babbled mid their ferns. 
Fair lilies lifting fragrant urns. 
And I, from blossom-covered trees. 
Have heard the sound of gathering bees. 
Of birds that shook their dewy breast 
"With song beside the waiting nest. 
In the cool shadows of the rocks 



25 




Oft have I watched the sleeping flocks. 
The while the shepherd, with his crook 
Against his knee, beside the brook 
Fashioned with skillful hand, at need, 
His panpipes from the whispering reed. 
And down the wood-paths long and dim. 
From the dark fountain's fringed brim 
On each round arm a dripping jar. 
Their happy laughter borne afar, 
"With white feet twinkling in the grass, 
Pve seen the smooth-limbed maidens pass. 
When morn with tongues of arrowy fire 
Has tipped the fir tree's slender spire. 
Through ivied doors the doves have wheeled. 
The laboring wains have rolled afield, 
"While from the stocks the reaper's song 
Echoed the rustling aisles along. 
And when beneath the rosy skies 
The evening brought its lullabies, 
I've heard, in accents sweet and mild, 
A mother crooning o'er her child, 
Her every heart-beat a dumb prayer 
For the dear being pillowed there. 



26 



And I have heard the night wind sigh, 
And seen the low stars burning nigh. 
And caught the firefly's wizard spark 
Out-struck amid the perfumed dark. 
These have I seen : the secret gold 
Where curves the rainbow's radiant fold, 
The mountain's cleft whence leaps the spring, 
The fays that foot their moonlight ring — 
Things ever seen of children's eyes 
Ere grown age-blurred and weary-wise — 
Things which the anointed still may see ; 
I, too, have been in Arcady, 

APRIL 

OW on the slopes her tender feet are pressed ; 

Her mistlike garments stream upon the breeze; 
Her hair is blown across her rosy breast, 
Where fall the shadows of the budding trees. 

The light of hope shines in her dewy eyes ; 

She breathes the promise of the vernal day; 
And as she fares beneath the dappled skies 

Unconsciously she trolls a little lay. 



27 




She knows where springs the earliest daffodil^ 

Where the young crocus lifts its whispering flame ; 

And as she slowly climbs from hill to hill, 
A thousand happy voices flute her name. 

The bleak and darkling days are overpast j 

Music outflows from founts long sealed and dumb ; 

Soft airs blow sweet where shrieked the icy blast ; — 
O wintry hearty thine April, too, is come. 

A GREAT MAN 

IERENE he trod the awful verge of night, 
And on the black and weltering chaos there 

[He looked with unaf frighted eyes, if so 
Some star of hope with softly pulsing heart 
He might discern. Against his brow he felt 
The thin cold air from myriad beating wings 
That rose from out the void and past him swept — 
The obscene things of darkness from the pit 
Rushing with raucous cries. A tranquil ear 
He bent to catch the secret whisperings 



28 




Of unseen visitants whose rustling vans 
Betimes he heard beside him where he passed. 
He conned his own soul and its various needs. 
And felt the germs of immortality- 
Stir in his nature, "When he could not see, 
He still believed, and deemed that he was blest. 
Though men turned from him with averted face. 
And asp-like tongues spat venom on his name. 
The tearless pathos of humanity 
Touched to the quick his brooding sympathies. 
And the poor, brute-like, blindly straggling world 
Smote sometimes its bruised hands against his breast. 
Waking a stormy music from the tense 
And quivering chords strung like a wind-harp there. 
He meekly lived unconscious of himself. 
And being thus unconscious, he was great. 

THE CRISIS 

LL night we watched the staring dial 

"Within the chamber hushed and dim ; 
Faith trembled towards its hour of trial, 
Hope cowered amid the shadows grim. 



29 




Outside, the night was drenched with rain ; 

Rude, viewless fingers tore the vines ; 
The winds whined at the window-pane. 

And grieved amid the rocking pines. 

"We held our hearts, and waited still, 

While came and went her fluttering breath. 

And on her drawn pale brow a chill 
Seemed to foretoken imminent death. 

And then -we prayed j our streaming eyes 
Ran down in tears j when lo ! a rest 

Like balm bedewed us from the skies, 
And peace unmeasured filled each breast. 

Then from its glossy throat a bird 
Outsent a clear sweet note ; the mild 

Fresh morning woke ; and joy I we heard 
Her dear voice call us, and she smiled. 



30 




CHARACTER 

OT in soft dreams of pleasure is it wrought. 
Nor is it forged in hours of slothful thought. 
But in the furnace-heat of strenuous years 
Time shapes its grace and tenapers it with tears. 

MAIDEN AND BRIDE 

I HE moves amid a surf of wind-blown flowers; 
I see her where her garments flow and shine ; 
[Her tresses, Danae-Iike, in golden showers 
Ripple from off her lyric brow and twine 
About her supple throat, while in her eyes 
The haunting spirit of youth unshadowed lies. 

A shy sweet smile about her parted lips 

Hovers in rosy dimples j on her breast. 
As jealous of the buds there in eclipse 

Of foam-white blooms, one tender hand is pressed ; 
She loves and dreams round all the meadows wide, 
Till May the maiden shall be June the bride. 



31 





THE SHELL 

HE world is but a hollow breathing shell 
By some chance wave cast on these shores of 

time, 

Still keeping in its ever-haunting chime 
The tameless voice of chaos* ancient spell. 
At whiles in its dark concave thunders swell, 
Waking the echoes of creation^s prime. 
And solemn memories of that day sublime 
"When through void gulfs of space light did upwell. 

Lo, evermore within the heavy ear 

Of sleeping, sodden, crass mortality 
It sobs its ceaseless warning, year by year. 

That o'er it once again shall heave night's sea ; 
And whoso hearkens, hushed and tense, may hear 

The awful whispers of eternity. 



32 



DEFEATED 

M FOLLOW not by paths I knew of yore 
The way to heart-peace and unvcxed content | 
The strenuous wrestlings of my soul are o^er ; 
The strength that bore me onward, now is spent. 

Here will I stay me in this quiet place, 
Far from the strivings of the clamorous world ; 

The lucid dews shall lave my parched face. 

The night's cool shades shall o'er me be unfurled. 

I will not question more of well or ill, 

Or why I failed within the bannered lists; 

Welcome this hour, the evening's gloom and chill. 
The silent woodlands and the silver mists. 

The whip-poor-will wails from his dusk retreat j 
The fire-fly's mimic lightning in the grass 

Flames where one pallid blossom at my feet 
Breathes its sweet incense on the winds that pass. 



33 




Gone arc the day's r«de noises and alarms ; 

Shorn and defeated, lol I seek but rest? 
O soothing night, fold round me thy wide arms, 

Pillow my head upon thy generous breast. 

THE JESTER 

HEY rode together down the claustral aisles 

iOf the dim woodland. From the cool retreats 
And leafy privacies the mated birds 
Ruffled their throats in song. High overhead 
The sun coursed a diaphanous sky, and sent 
Through swaying boughs his javelins of gold. 
A slender stream rang all its crystal bells 
'Twixt banks of moss and fern beside the way 
Whither they passed unheeding. The sleek steeds 
Set noiseless hoofs on mast and russet leaves, 
The last year's fallen glory. Each was young. 
And she was very fair. His arm was zoned 
About her ; the twin roses in her cheeks 
Flamed as she drooped against him, her bright hair 
Flowed o'er his shoulder, and her dancing plumes 



34 



Swept his bronzed cheek. 

Then were they ware of one 
"Who, bowed and tattered, in the shadow stood 
Leaning upon a staff. His sightless eyes 
"Were bent upon the twain, a flickering hand 
"Was out-thrust towards them, while across his breast. 
Stained with unseasonable rains and dews. 
The legend ran, ** Sweet folk, alms for the blind.^* 
With little sounds of pity they drew rein. 
Upon the pleading palm a coin was laid. 
And conscience-free they pricked along their path; 
Till suddenly, from behind, a peal of mirth 
Caught them as with a buffet, and they turned j 
Then from his face the beggar plucked a mask. 
His ragged garments from his body slipt. 
And they beheld the dazzling wings of Love. 

THE POTTER'S CLAY 

PON the potter's flying wheel the clay 
Knows not the purpose of its plasmic day? 
So we upon this blindly-whirling sphere 
Are shaped to ends which do not yet appear. 



35 





A HAUNTED HEART 

Vale, vale, in seternum vale. 

^ UR ways diverge ; we shall not meet again ; 
But that old season, gone beyond recall, 
Shall never quite pass from your life, nor all 
Forgotten be its pleasure and its pain. 
Hushed is the music of the summer rain 
Among the flowers? no more the lilies tall 
Flame in the garden where for us the small 
Vine-cloistered minstrel warbled his refrain. 

The last word has been spoken and we part; 

Vanished the dream which was too bright to stay? 
Hate from her quiver draws a final dart 

Full-fledged with scorn and deadly will to slay. 
Farewell! the hollow chambers of yottr heart 

Shall know henceforth the ghost of a dead day. 



36 



THE PRISONER AND THE LARK 

What joyous things, he said, are those larks in the spring 
sun ' Do you know that pathetic story of the lark and of the 
man freed from the Bastille during the French Revolution? 
AS he came from prison, some one took pity on him and 
gave him a few sous. Passing down the street, he saw a 
lark in a cage ; and the man, who had heen In prison many 
years, could not hear the sight of the Imprisoned bird. With 
his few poor sous he bought it and set it free. The lark shot 
up to heaven singing a jubilant song of triumph— but the next 
moment dropped dead at the man's feet, dead with excess 
of \0J .—Memoir oj- Alfred Lord Tennyson. 

^UT of the prison, stooped and old. 
Out of the dungeon dank, he came; 
The light on the pavement burned like gold ; 
The blue of the skies was shot with flame. 

His eyes, so long in darkness bound, 

"Wavered and blenched before the sun ; 
The city streets, with sound on sound. 

His shrinking spirit seemed to stun. 

Helpless and da^ed, along the way 

His footsteps wandered here and there ; 
The thin white locks on his shoulders lay ; 

He drank as athirst the free sweet air. 



37 




Then some kind soul with pitying eyes 
Looked on those features worn and gaunt. 

And saw beneath their wan surprise 
The shadowy haggard mask of want. 

So into his tremulous pallid hand, 

The dole of a few poor sous was thrust ; 

There were famishing hosts in that moidered land ; 
The gift would purchase at least a crust. 

Down the long street, with feeble tread, 
Broken, bewildered, the old man went, 

As one alive who has long been dead, 
Or one in a desert whose strength is spent. 

But hark I upon his startled ears 

"What clear, sad notes are those that fall ? 

Vhat strain is that which again he hears ? 
From his far-off youth what voices call ? 

He sees once more the lucid streams 
That from the upland pastures flow; 

Beside the folded flock he dreams ; 
At dawn he hears the red cock crow. 



38 



He sees the cattle in the byre 

"Where the gray dews of morning lie ; 
With swelling throat and heart of fire 

The lark is fluting in the sky. 

But no I as with a roar of rage 
The city strikes his vision dead ; 

There in its narrow wicker cage 
A captive lark pipes o'er his head. 

"With sudden tears his heart overflows; 

Scarce one hour since he, too, was where 
The ruthless walls around him rose, 

And on him blew death's chilling air. 

Ah piteous I yonder hapless bird 
Its drooping wings shall beat in vain 

Against its bars ; be his the word 
To give it the free skies again. 

So from his tattered coat he drew 
The scanty coins; now his the right 

To swing the cage-door wide ; upf lew 
The lark with gurglings of delight. 



39 



A moment there he hears that bliss 

O'er all the tumult of the street, 
A soaring song;— but what is this 

That falls and flutters at his feet ? 

Poor little shattered thing, how brief 
The flight to freedom it did take I 

O fainting one, bear thou thy grief I 
"With rapture, too, the heart can break. 

OPPORTUNITY 

^ITH rustling wings she swept from heaven 
and stood 

' Beside me where I loitered in the way. 
Her brow was calm, and in her outstretched hand 
She bore a gift — a virgin hud that blushed 
Disparting its green sheath. The restless motes 
Danced round me in the shimmering light, the while 
I wantoned through the day. She spake no word, 
But paused a little space and looked at me 
With silent scorn ; then plumed her shining vans 
In sudden flight, nor ever came again. 



40 




THE ENDLESS RENEWING 

MN silence and in darkness, hour by hour, 
Unseen beneath the winter's ermine mask. 
To bring again the swelling bud and flower, 
Nature hath wrought at her unending task. 

No grass-blade groping towards the light above. 
No rootlet feeling for the vernal rains, 

Shall miss her secret ministry of love, 
Fed by the subtle ichor of her veins. 

Ah, can it be, when at her quickening breath 

The world's vast pulses w^ake, and thrill, and leap. 

Our loved ones, in the viewless halls of of death. 
Alone shall lie sealed in unbroken sleep ? 

Nay, let us trust the soul's divine desire ; 

Beyond our fluttering hopes, our faltering lore, 
God's power shall lift us like celestial fire, 

And mounting life shall triumph evermore. 



41 




ROBERT BROWNING 

(May 7, 1812.) 

HITHER he came j before his ardent feet 
The ways divided ; in his eager face 
^^^a^l Glowed warm the light of pure resolve^ and fleet. 

Soft zephyrs brought onto the charmed place 
Fine, mystic incense from some far-off clime, 
While o'er him breathed the morning in its prime. 

Three calm-eyed Ittstrous virgins nigh him stoodt 
With rose-leaf lips curved in a tender smile ; 

He on them looked and knew that they were good. 
Then one, whose voice like mttsic did beguile 

With dearest accents, wooed him from the spot ; 

He bowed and hearkened, but he answered not. 

The second spake i before his quickened eyes 

Fair scenes uprose; clear streams their lengths unrolled 

Through wide and luminous valleys picture-wise ; 
The blue overhead was flecked with white and gold ; 

Him then w^ith brush and palette did she prove, 

But still his waiting spirit did not move. 



42 



The third that called him bore a golden iyre 
Against her bosom, and unfading bays 

Girt her smooth brow j then sudden sweet desire 
Upleaped within him, and immortal lays 

From out his inmost heart unbidden came, 

While all his life burned toward her like a flame. 

And lo, he worshiped at her shining feet, 
Then rose to follow her o^er many a waste ; 

He hungered, and she gave him tears for meat ; 
She slaked his thirst with waters harsh to taste ; 

Thus having found him steadfast to the core, 

She turned on him a radiant face once more. 

Ye ministers of fire, ye flaming seers, 

High prophets of the soul, with you consort 

One who hath place among his own great peers. 
One who hath seen the elements disport 

In vast abysses where the thunders sleep, 

And noisome dragons their fell vigils keep. 



43 



Atid his the glory and the equal dower 

Of star-crowned love and beauty passionless ; 

The eloquence of the golden-hearted flower, 
The faith that wrestles in the wilderness ; 

Still fares he forth from dawn-lit paths dew-pearled, 

A singing pilgrim through a sighing world. 



AD VESPERAM 

*'Im wunderschOnen Monat Mai 
Als alle Kuospen sprangen." 

^^HERE has my morning with its music fled, 
"When sweet sounds swept like rain along 
the hills, 

"When happy blooms with lucent dews were fed. 
And tremulous laughter tinkled froni the rills? 




Then rainbowed vistas ravished Hope's young eye ; 

Green upland slopes were white with nibbling flocks ; 
O'er springing harvests bent the peaceful sky. 

And nunlike violets smiled by mossy rocks. 



44 



Thea ran like wine the quick blood throtjgh my veins, 
As springes rich ichor shoots through root and bough 

My glad soul echoed back the thrush's strain, 
And mocked the plowman whistling at his plow. 

O morning time of youth I O voice of spring I 
Vanished long since, — ah, long since fallen dumb I 

Now sad and weary lips forget to sing ; 

The old sweet madness never more will come. 

For the day droops and shadows are grown long ; 

In ruined gardens lies the summer's gold ; 
From the brown pasture dies the cricket's song, 

And on wet banks the light lies gray and cold. 

Round the shorn meadows sifts the early rime ; 

The hills are dark, and low clouds trail above ; 
Yet, O my heart, sing in this evening-time. 

Mid summer's tarnished glory dream of love. 



45 




THE LAST SHELTER 

HE light of hope dawned in her girlish eyes. 
As morning smiles in the pellucid skies — 
O bliss of life ! 

A shadow fell, hope's light died in eclipse, 
And hands of flame to anguish touched her lips — 
O bane of love ! 

Now in the inviolate dark she lies at rest, 
While tides of peace brood o'er her tranced breast — 
O longed-for night ! 

In vain the world's shrill blasts above her rave. 
Rumors of shame sweep harmless round her grave — 
O friendly death ! 

THE FIRST SNOWFALL 

NCE more the silent snowfall ; heaven assoils 
Of shame alike bare field and naked tree ; 

Thus o'er our banal lusts and sordid broils 
Falls the white mantle of God's charity. 



46 





A PAVEMENT FOSSIL 

EONS ago, in its primevai slimes 

It throve throughout that dim chaotic morn, 
When the long twilight of unfolding time 
Still brooded o'er a world but lately born. 

On the palimpsest of the sodden clay. 

The obscene creatures that did fly or creep 

Left the rude record of their uncouth play 
And conflicts with the dragons of the deep. 

An unimagined day of raucous cries. 

Through air obscured by countless bat-like wings. 
Of monsters, roaring at the shuddering skies. 

In deadly fight with mailed and scaly things. 

Then the earth groaned in travail ; mighty throes 
Rent her huge ribs asunder, as the floods 

In weltering gulfs o'er sinking mountains rose, 
While new peaks burst from the waste solitudes. 



47 



But the unstable waves roll back again^ 

And from the laboring bosom of the world, 

As from a prostrate Titan mad with pain, 

The reeking continents are once more uphurled. 

So the vast drama surges on, and still 

O^er all the life dissolved in dust and night 

Life mounts and triumphs evermore, until 

Man lifts his thought-wreathed brov/ towards the light. 

And here where the great city, street by street, 
Pours its full tides with ceaseless ebb and flow. 

Unheeded and unheeding, myriad feet 
Spurn this dull relic of the long ago. 

None reads the lesson: after noise and strife, 
Darkness and silence; o'er man's fallen head. 

Far ages hence, perhaps some higher life 
In crowded marts may pass with busy tread. 

If then about the world blow kindlier airs, 
If fairer eves and sweeter mornings shine. 

And hearts no longer break beneath their cares, 
For all the old life gone who shall repine ? 



THE PURSUIT OF FAME 

^^K^ FOLLOW, follow, but I win it not ; 
I^Jim ^ ^^'^ **^ golden radiance from afar 
V^SMJ Through leagues of darkness fallen like a blot 
On the wide landscape ; still I seek the star. 

I seek the star, yet know not surely where 
The pathway lies by tangled wood and fen ; 

The night is chill, and through the ghostly air 
Thin voices call again and yet again. 

I see it wavering through the hollow dark j 
Anon it brightens, sinks, and seems to die ; 

Then slowly kindles like a little spark. 
Until it throbs and burns against the sky. 

And when 'tis mine at length, and wearied quite 
I pause forspent where winds blow cool and damp, 

I find, mid mocking whispers of the night, 
Naught but a firefly bearing his small lamp. 



<9 




THE UPPER REALMS 

JERENE> apart, unvexcd of clamant years* 
As the lean-headed eagles build on high 
Mid towering crags, and see the clouds go by 
Far down with lightnings torn and know no fears. 
So where old Time his austere front uprears 
Against the cold and solitary sky, 
I've seen the morn's imperious banners fly. 
And stars expiring weep celestial tears. 

Lonely but glad, calm but not cheerless grown, 
Pve heard the solemn converse of the night. 

Have caught the low and inarticulate moan 
Of pines upon the immemorial height ; 

Yet my rapt soul has dwelt not all alone. 
For lucid wings have o'er me stayed their flight. 

RECOMPENSE 

HILL is the hollow dark. 

And the night long. 
Still the dawn cometh, hark! 

Somewhere a song. 



50 




Rough is the way we go. 
And the heart sore, 

Still the night cometh, lol 
Rest lies before. 



THE PARTING 




3IFE, wilt thou leave me now ? oVr all the way. 
Or rough or smooth, together we have fared ; 
The selfsame scanty cruse we still have shared. 
And, whether Fortune smiled or frowned, were gay. 
Duty's stern voice hath called ; we did not stay 
To doubt, but greatly loved and greatly dared ; 
Tempests have beaten on us ; we have bared 
Our lifted brows unshadowed by dismay. 

Dear comrade of a thousand hardships past. 

Of tender chidings, confidences sweet. 
Is this the end, and must we part at last ? 

Go we our separate ways no more to meet ? 
The silence waits us j round us falls the vast 

Waste night, but still we follow Hope's light feet. 



51 



TO 

t^^l^EAREST, we have wrought together 
Ijll^^jM Through the wasting years^ 
E^^^SjIn serene and troubled weather. 

Mocked of hopes and fears ; 
Now beyond Timers lessening tether, 

Lo, the end appears. 

While the certain dusk advances. 

Nestle at my side ; 
Sunset kindles in thy glances, 

O my faithful bride ; 
Eve thy fairness but enhances. 

Past youth's rosy pride. 

So our courage shall not alter 

With the changing light. 
Nor our onward footsteps falter 

Toward the coming night ; 
Still our hearts con love's sweet psalter, 

And the way is bright. 



52 




THE FRUITFUL YEAR 

I HE stands amid her rustling stocks ; 

On drooping leaves and berried vines, 
j "Where late birds sing in sunny nooks, 
She sets her mystic signs. 

Her ample bosom heaves and falls 

"With the calm breath of sweet content ; 

She hears the reapers* cheery calls 
With sounds of laughter blent. 

Before her gaze fair visions rise : 
Garners with generous fruitage stored. 

And hearthfire lights in children's eyes 
Grouped round a smiling board. 

THE NEWCOiWlER 



^^W HEAR a little footstep 
Bjl^ Fall lightly on the floor, 
[:S^^ And slowly on its hinges turns 
The half-reluctant door. 



53 



A child stands on the threshold. 
Dimpled and shy and fair, 

"With baby finger at his lips. 
And soft wind-ruffled hair. 

He pauses for a word or nod, 
Betwixt a smile and tear j 

Ah, let me bid him welcome — 
It is the infant year. 



THE BLIND ARCHER 

JEAUTIES, guess ye where he bides? 
some flowery hedge he hides, 

JFoIding close each filmy van ; 
From his mother's side he ran, 
"Wanton, wilful, naked, blind ; 
If the boy ye chance to find. 
Fly the spot or yet his dart 
Quivers in your stricken heart. 



54 




Evermore he bends his ear. 
Listening for a footstep near, 
Lurking till some hapless maid 
Nigh his rosy lair hath strayed ; 
To the cord a winged shaft 
Sets he then with cruel craft ; 
Hark ye I sightless though he is. 
Rarely doth this archer miss. 



AT SUNSET 



^^j^OW that the toilful day is done, 
NllXJ jW I rest me here awhile, 
lU!^ri4>^iAnd loose my burdens, one by one, 

"Where the slant sunrays isle 
This little bosk in meadows fair. 

Far from the noisy beat 
Of clashing hoofs, on pavements bare, 

And tread of hurrying feet. 



55 



Cool waftures from the twilight wood 

Breathe balm upon my eyes ; 
The shy sweet peace of solitude 

Like dew about me lies j 
Thin vapors lift their fihny veils 

Upon the evening air, 
And every conscious bloom exhales 

The perfume of a prayer. 

THE VEILED DESTINY 

HE dark had not yet come, but day was fallen 
Among the ruddy embers ot the west ; 
Sweetly the dew was gathering on the flowers. 

And late bees, heavy-laden, homeward turned. 

Somewhere, far off, amid the dusky fields. 

One solitary bird above its nest 

Uttered its little cry of anxious joy. 

In mine your hand lay, like a snowflake chill, 

And in the shadow of your eyes I read 

Our mutual doom. No whispered word availed. 

A single star, amid the curtaining clowds, 

56 





Peered out and twinkled coldly. And o«f lips 
Met once, not with a swift touch full of fire, 

But passionless, as ashes lay between 

Then from my empty life your presence passed 

Forever, while upon the insensate world 

The stark night closed, and Hope lay newly dead. 

AFTER THE BRIDAL 

O, she was reared for this, 
I To leave the house silent at last I 
[No singing more. 

No laughter nor young bliss ; 

Out from my door, 

Out from the dove-white past. 

She goes ne'er to return a maid ; 

All unafraid 

She passes into the great world with him» 

Does he so love her then 

That, dwarfing love of other men. 

His love out-towers the thought and care, 

The eyes with vigils dim. 

The daily toiling and the secret prayer. 



57 



That forge a parent's life ? 

To be a wife I 

O little daughter with the shining hair, 

O youthful maiden with the dainty feet, 

O tender woman in whose glances meet 

The spring and summer sw^eet. 

That thou mightst find thy mate 

Is this thy filial gift ? — this desolate 

And sunless room 

"Where, clothed with gloom, 

A bowed and broken man. 

His days a span. 

Sits through long vacant watches still to stare 

Across a widowed hearthstone chill and bare, 

IN THE MARKET-PLACE 

MUSE, we have piped, but none have danced. 
And now we sit in the market-place, 
^ (While the shadows of noon on the flags lie 
tranced), 
With idle fingers and drooping face, 

58 




Why shottid wc vex our souls to send 

Our laboring breath through the hollow reed ? 

No ears are charmed^ save those that bend 
To scrannel straws at the lips of greed. 

Come^ let us rise from these sordid "ways ; 

Let us flee to the conscious woods and streams^ 
And though we have fallen on evil days. 

We will dwell apart and keep our dreams. 

MILTON 

WINGED and radiant spirit, yet a man I 
A man of mortal passions, mortal wants — 
A man of simple pleasures, hopes, and griefs. 

And who at last like us must needs fare out 

Upon that dim and undiscovered way 

Whither earth's generations wend from sight. 

To him man's life was as an open page 

Whereon he read the riddle of the years, 

And nature was a vast apocalypse. 

Earth was to him a treasure house wherein 

His riches lay, and from its darksome crypts 



59 




At his quick summons came its secrets forth, 

Trooping, obedient, the vassals of his will. 

He knew the seas, and all their myriad life 

To him became a mystic revelation, 

Beautiful, mutable, ceaseless, and he heard 

In the small ripples tinkling on the beach 

Voices and words and syllables of love. 

Listening, he caught the accents of the storm. 

Hearing therein no sounds of violence. 

But the large, lofty converse of a friend. 

Considering the lilies of the field. 

The grass, the wayside hedge, he heard their speech. 

And every trembling leaflet spake to him 

In a divine, mysterious utterance 

He understood alone. He made him friends 

Of brooks and birds and rocks and hills and woods. 

Interpreting their language with his heart, 

And heaven^s high arcana were his joys. 

The sun and moon and stars sphered all their light 

About his pathway, fending evil shapes 

And shadowy horrors, and dark, skulking wrongs. 

Born of a leprous, foul, volcanic age. 



60 



From him their child^ their prophet, priest and king. 

His mind was not like theirs who cannot hold 

Resolve for one brief moment, but through years 

He followed to its splendid consummation 

A steadfast plan ; nor did he coyly touch 

A theme that saintliest souls this world e^er knew 

Scarce dared to dream of, but he freely dwelt 

In heavens of beauty and in hells of terror, 

Where lesser minds, benumbed and silence-smit. 

And whelmed in seas of gloom ineffable, 

Down to swift, nether gulfs of night had sunk. 

Ere darkness on the windows of his soul 

Fell and forever quenched the light without. 

He doted on fair Nature^s loving face 

That smiled and lightened on him where he moved* 

He turned his forehead to the vaulted sky. 

And saw the miracle of the night and day. 

And read the signs of love and peace in all. 

But when to him these were forever veiled, 

"Within the effulgence of his own great soul 

He sat, and with invisible things communed. 

Dwelling with those vast beings of his brain. 



6i 



And holding discoar sc with the hoary past. 
The hidden archives of his life contained 
Records whereof the occult charactery 
Angels alone might read. A wider realm 
Was that wherein he moved than others claimed. 
He bade his spirit flee from ^one to zone, 
And range inviolate lands of snow and ice. 
Where sleeps the frozen silence of the poles. 
All things conveyed a meaning unto him ; 
Nothing was useless, nothing base and mean, 
Which had sprung forth from the Creative Hand* 



ANTICIPATION 

O rose can shut and be a bud again ; 
Sometime, my darling, you shall understand 
3Why I am greedy of these moments when 
Against my breast I hold your little hand. 
And watch the curves and dimples of your face. 
And all your beauty and your flowerlike grace. 



62 




For the swift current of the ceaseless years 
Shall bear you on their bosom to life's main, 

Where tempests rage and hearts grow sick with fears. 
And the Black Shadow waits whose name is Pain ; 

Then this sweet brow shall wear a crown of care, 

And I, nay dear one, I shall not be there. 

O tender feet, the way is rough and steep j 
O violet eyes, your vigils must be long ; 

So while I may, in love's nest let me keep 
My precious baby safe from any wrong ; 

Kiss me with lips still pure and undefiled, 

For sometime I shall lose you, O my child. 



A VOICE FROM RAMA 

LITTLE face in darkness hid away ; 
O shining head, thy pillow now is cold ; 
^ Fond eyes, that shall not greet the waking day. 
About thee lie the shadows, fold on fold. 




63 



I cannot touch thee, darling, though I lean 
Till in the grass above thee my sad brow 

Is buried quite ; alas ! the baffling screen 
Is ne'er removed ; I cannot reach thee now. 

How strange it is, to thee I am so near, 

And yet thou answerest not my soul's deep call j 

Is the dark palpitant around thee, dear? 
Dost feel my love like dew upon thee fall ? 

Thou liest quiet in thy narrow room, 
Forgetting how Spring's mounting tides rejoice ; 

"What weird is woven in thy starless gloom, 
To seal thy rosebud lips and hush thy voice ? 

I hunger for thee, sweet ; thy balmy kiss 
My starved lips here shall never feel again ; 

The lyric music of thy feet I miss ; 
I listen for thy laughter all in vain. 

I stumble on through blinding mists of tears. 
In clamorous ways of toil, because I must ; 

Waste is the earth and void are all the years ; 
O child* my heart lies with thee in the dust. 



64 



AT THE WINDOW 



^^1^ LITTLE face at the window, 
4k^lI a tiny hand that waves good'*bye, 
yJ&d'^ A dimpling smile, and golden hair 
Wherein the frolic sunbeams lie ; 
Such is the vision that all day long 

Follows my weary feet, 
And moves wherever my tired eyes 
Gaze on the busy street. 

For how could one toil and wrestle. 

To win his daily wage of bread, 
Did he not think on those loving eyes. 

Those rosebud lips, that shining head ? 
So while the heavy hours go by 

In the noisy market-place, 
I long for the moment to see again 

At the window that little face. 

little face at the window I 

O sunny eyes and silken hair I 

1 hasten my footsteps homeward. 

For I shall find you there. 



Far, far hence be the evening hour 

When I no more shall see 
At the darkened window a little face, 

Escept in memory. 



LITTLE FOOTFALLS 



I^^^^O, never the rhythm of showers in summer 
M|L]HJBa more lightly beat 

v^l^^^ On leaves all quivering with joy at the cool- 
ing kiss of the rain, 
Than on my thirsty ears fell the patter of tiny feet 
And the sound of a silvery voice a-gurgle with laugh- 
ter again. 

For who can measure the silence bodeful as that of death 
When in the hushed, dim chamber, where white, 
drawn faces peer. 
Above the broken whispers flutters a gasping breath, 
And pale lids curtain the eyes than all besides more 
dear? 



66 



None, none can fathom the stillness that steals from roon. 
to room 
Whence one small presence has passed, like a sudden 
light gone out, 
And none can know the horror of irrevocable gloom, 
Save those the life of whose darling hangs in the scales 
of doubt. 

Ah, how the shadows are lifted, and the joy-bells throb 
again, 
And the heart sings in the bosom like a dawn- 
awakened bird, 
"When little feet turn backward from the Valley of Loss 
and Pain, 
And the music of fairy footfalls once more in the 
house is heard. 

R. L. S. 



B" 



jRITHEE turn, O passer-by, 

this green inclosure lie 
All the graces that could lend 
Fragrance to the name of **friend^'j 



67 



Knightly instincts, kindly deeds. 
Swift response to lifers deep needs. 
Courtesies that did not fail, 
Sympathies that ne'er grew stale. 
Home of finest thoughtfulness, 
And those impulses that bless 
Bowed and stricken humankind. 
While to malice nobly blind, 
"Was the man that moulders here ; 
So to nature he is dear. 
And the heavens that o'er him bend 
Daily breathe, "He was a friend/' 



A SONG OF THE HILLTOP 

O the hilltop let us go ; 

1 Squirrels are hiding there, I know. 
And in fir-trees thick and tall. 
Hour by hour, the catbirds call ; 
Bow and arrow in our hand. 
On the hilltop let us stand. 



68 




Hunters blithe and bold are we. 
And we range the forests free. 
Each a merry Robin Hood, 
Loving well the leafy wood ; 
Bearing still the self -yew bow. 
To the hilltop let us go. 

There the breezes fresh and sweet 
Ripple o^er the fields of wheat, 
And the mimic waterfalls 
Leap and laugh with elfin calls ; 
Up, the day is in its prime, 
They but lose who fear to climb. 

THE HEART OF A BOY 



^^n^l^ UT of the leafy twilight, hearken ! again and 

1^1) again, 

^^^^j Slaking the thirsty noontide, falls the melodious 
rain 

Of the wood-thrush where, in the coolness and greenness, 
he sits apart 

And poet-like gives to the silence the wealth of his afflu- 
ent heart. 

69 



The shepherd that stands on the hillslope, over his slanted 

crook 
Leaning his shaggy bosom, listens, and hard by the brook 
The bell-wether leading the flock pauses a moment to 

hear, 
Dimly aware of the sweetness breathed in his slttggish 

ear. 

Hushed are the whispering leaves, and the waters that 

softly creep 
O^er the pebbles that gleam in the shallows murmur as if 

in sleep. 
And the frog on the oozy marge, with iris and reeds 

overgrown, 
i^uffles his voice in his throat and lies as still as a stone. 

O grace of the halcyon day! O song from the dusk 

woodside ! 
To the naked sun-browned lad dabbling his feet in the 

tide. 
However the years may run with error and sorrow rife. 
Ye are a living memory — ye are a part of life. 



70 



The. world may be swathed in vapors, or drowned in the 

rushing rain. 
And eyelids heavy with weeping may watch for the 

dawn in vain, 
Yea, quenched in tears as of blood may be many a later 

joy. 
But never that song from the upland stored in the heart 

of a boy. 

SING A SONG OF SIXPENCE 

JING a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye, 
Bees are in the clover, and clouds are sailing 
high J 

All the world's before us, there are birds in every tree, 
And to the music that they make our hearts dance mer- 
rily; 
Lambs frisk in the meadows, and silver fishes gleam, 
Hourly playing hide and seek, in every sunny stream. 

Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye. 
On the upland pastures the dew is scarcely dry ; 



71 




Who would mope in corners o^er dull and musty books, 
When the flowers are blowing in a thousand fragrant 

nooks ? 
Squirrels among the leafy boughs are leaping free from 

care» 
And butterflies are flitting through the summer air. 

Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye, 

On the green slopes of the hills how good to rest the eye ! 

Leave awhile the tyrant lessons ; barefoot o'er the grass 

Chase the flying shadows, nor heed the hours that pass ; 

To the fields and forests hasten, lads, away ; 

Sing a song of sixpence — let us live today. 

CRADLE SONGS 
I 
\|^^j^: USH-a-bye, hush-a-bye, little feet, go 
liKn^ Down the cool slopes where the dream- 
Wt^v^J flowers grow, 

Down to the stream where the sleep-zephyrs blow, 
Low — ah, low — 
Lighter than snow, 
Brushing the slumber-dews, little feet, go. 



72 



Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye, shut, little eyes ; 

Home to her nestlings the sparrow-bird flies ; 

Now with her cuddled Iamb, stilling its cries. 

Lies — ah, lies 

Under the skies 

The woolly ewe-mother ; shut, shut, little eyes. 

Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye, little one, sleep ; 

Now the moon-shepherdess, barefoot Bo-peep, 

Leads all her starry flock up the blue steep ; 

Sweep — ah, sweep — 

Out to the deep. 

Dearest of voyagers j little one, sleep. 



II 

^l^glHIS is the road to Sleepy-town — 

WrV^M Barefoot-highway, dusky-brown, 

t^ea^l "Where the sandman waits with blinking eyes. 

Selling fresh dreams from Paradise, — 

**"W"ho buys, who buys. 

Fresh new dreams from Paradise ? ^^ 



73 



This is the road to SIcepy-town ; 

Shadows are falling over the down ; 

The night-moth flits and the black bat flies, 

And the sandman follows with blinking eyes, — 

**"W"ho buys, who buys, 

Fresh new dreams from Paradise ? " 

This is the road to Sleepy-town, 

Where travelers go in a milk-white gown. 

To enter the ivory gates that rise 

At the end of the way where the sandman cries, 

** Who buys, who buys. 

Fresh new dreams from Paradise ? ^' 

m 

,HAT do they do in Bylo-land, 
(Silvery, shadowy Byloland? 
They swing no bat, they fly no kite ; 
The tattered dolls are forgotten quite ; 
But out through the gates of the City of Night 
The little ones glide in garments white 
To beautiful Bylo-land» 



74 




"What do they hear in Bylo-Iand, 
Glimmering, mystical Bylo-Iand ? 

Ah, little ears hear wonderful things ; 

Snatches of song that mother sings 

When the light sinks low, and the rocker swingsj 

And lullaby sounds from hidden springs 
In the kills of Bylo-land* 

How win them back from Bylo-land, 

Magical, emerald Bylo-land ? 

When the last faint star in heaven dies, 

And the dusk grows wan where the mountaiins 

rise. 
When the great sun climbs the yellow skies. 
Then mother's kisses on drowsy eyes 

Woo back from Bylo-land ♦ 

IV 

'HISPER, whisper out of the west, 
I Fold thy plumes o'er my birdling's nest. 
Come, O wind, whence the poppies blow. 
Come whence the lullaby fountains flow> 



75 




Come with kisses soft and sweet 

For tired little eyes and tired little feet, 

Whisper, whisper out of the south, 
Drop thy balm on the wee red mouth. 
Come, O wind, from the palm and pine. 
From the trailing moss and the tangled vine, 
Come with touches soft and sweet 
On tired little eyes and tired little feet. 



LEEP, sleep, my babe, night will not harm thee. 

Nor care disturb thy happy rest ; 
Here shalt thou lie, here shalt thou warm thee. 
Safe sheltered on thy mother's breast. 

Sleep, baby, sleep, my heart thy pillow ; 

Thee love from evil hap shall guard ; 
The moon hangs bright o'er yonder willow ; 

Above, dear God keeps watch and ward. 




O baby mine, what peace infolds thee I 
Beneath thee is Love's tender arm j 

The Gentle Shepherd sweetly holds thee— 
He shields his helpless Iambs from harm. 

Then sleep, my babe, no tongue shall chide thee ; 

On thee shall blow no wind unblest ; 
O baby, in my heart I hide thee. 

There make thy bed, thesre take thy rest. 



VI 

[HITHER stray you, dimple-feet? 
I Winds are blowing fresh and sweet 
From the dim dream-mountains ; 
By what pathways do you go 
"Where the magic waters flow 
From the cool sleep-fountains ? 




Far and fair the landscape lies i 
Cloudless are the sapphire skies 
Which lean softly over j 



77 



There bright birds that blithely sing^ 
Low of voice and light of wing, 
Round you ever hover. 

Tiny stranger, traveling still 
From the dew-wet purple hill 

"Wreathed with bud and blossom. 
When the shapes of sleep are fled, 
"Wake to find your little head 

Safe on mother^s bosom* 

vn 



OCK-A-BYE, baby, thy cradle is green. 
Over thy slumbers the cool branches lean, 
Bees in thy bower are crooning their song, 
Leaves whisper round thee all the day long, 
Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, blue are the skies, 
Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, shut little eyes. 

Rock-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green, 
Tiny brown mothers their soft feathers preen^ 
While the dear birdlings are hushed in the nest. 



78 



And the light breezes blew out of the west, 
Rock-a-byc, rock-a-bye, blue arc the skies, 
Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, shut little eyes, 

** Rock-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green. 
Father's a nobleman, mother's a queen,*' 
Sweet as the dews in the cups of the flowers. 
Love sheds its balm on thee through the bright hours 
Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, blue are the skies, 
Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, shut little eyes. 



vni 

VER and over, and under and under. 
Sleep is a rover through dream-lands of 
wonder. 

Over the rivers and over the leas. 

Under the mountains and under the seas ; 

Out of the sunlight, 

Into the dun night. 

Sleep on wings downy-gray 

Flits with my babe away. 



79 




Under and under, and over and over, 

By meadows and mountains still loiters the rover, 

"Where through the buttercups yellow as gold 

Wind the young lambs to the peace of the fold ; 

Out of the sunlight, 

Into the dun night. 

Sleep on wings downy-gray 

Flits with my babe away. 

IX 

[LEEP, O my babe, not thine a manger 
Where cradled lies thy helpless head ; 
[No oxen low, dear little stranger, 
And wondering stare above thy bed ; 
Thou need^st not weep ; 
Ah, slumber deep. 
For fond hearts wake while thou dost sleep. 
And light as dews shed from the skies 
Love shuts the violets of thine eyes : 
Not in a stall 
Love's kisses all 
As soft as rose-leaves on thee falU 



80 




SHADOWS OF THE SANCTUARY 



HOMEWARD 



^^^ TREAD the path; the end thereof 
|^j|w\ I cannot see ; but thou, my Guide, 
^^)Hast taught me that thy name is Love, 

So evermore at thy dear side 
I walk content ; and though my feet 

Are sometimes weary, and my eyes 
Strain through the dark, I find it sweet, 

Knowing the pathway homeward lies. 

**HE BRINGETH THE WIND'' 



ij^^^OWE'ER it come, however it go, 
IfPnKl ^ ^^^stion not what wind may blow, 
SSS^Since, whether calm or storm betide. 

Serene o'er all still doth He ride 

"Whose chariot wheels the sun out- tire, 

Whose ministers are flaming fire. 

Though tossed my fragile bark, the gale 

That sweeps me on with tattered sail. 

To mariners becalmed mid-sea 

The very breath of life may he* 

82 



The tempest that uproots the oak^ 
And rolls the clouds like battle-smoke 
From shattered cliff to riven scar 
PLld shocks of elemental war, 
In yonder cool and claustral wood 
But lifts the violet^s azure hood, 
Where in her hushed, sequestered dell 
Like a shy nun she loves to dw^ell* 
And when the bellowing hurricane 
Leaps wildly o'er the dark champaign^, 
Beating as with a mighty flail 
Rich harvests down before the hail, 
While scattered in its huge, blind wrath 
Men's ruined labors strew its path, — 
Upon the marge of some clear lake. 
The mirror fair of bloom and brake, 
"White lilies lightly dip and rise, 
Asleep beneath the fostering skies. 
Thus howsoever the wind may blow, 
Or be it high or be it low, 
I hush my foolish heart to rest ; 
God sends the winds, and He knows best. 



83 



''LIKE AS WE ARE'' 



^^SiR LL night, with fevered eyes, I lay and staf cd 
|Br^l i^ Upon the darkness while my sorrow bled ; 
^SmTill, 'twixt the twilight and the rose-flwshed day, 
I slept, and sleeping dreamed that I had died. 
Amid the little stars, that past me rained 
Like sparks shot downward, swiftly I was borne 
Unto the very Presence. "With crossed wings 
And haloed foreheads, round me circle-wise 
Stood heaven's pure spirits. *^ Thou art hither brought," 
He spake upon whose face I dared not look, 
''That from what tribulation thou art come. 
Being made perfect, thou mayst now declare." 
So with bowed head and quivering touch I drew 
The vestments from my bosom, whence slow dropped 
Big tears of blood. " Behold," I faintly said, 
"Not hatred's, but love's, bitter stroke." "Whereat 
From out the utter glory welled a Voice 
More thrilling sweet than music, and a Form, 
Sun-clothed and with a golden girdle cinct, 
Moved downward to me. "Fear not, child," He 
breathed, 

84 



**1 am thy Brother, and I know thy woe f* 

And as His fingers twined about my own, 

I saw His hand was wounded, and my gaze, 

Daring at length to travel upward, marked 

The spear-thrust in His side- Then all at once 

I knew Him — knew His crown of twisted thorns, 

And, poring on the mystery of His eyes, 

I knew Iove*s holiest Victim, and I wept ; 

But He, low murmuring, elapsed me to His breast. 

And as a mother cherisheth her babe, 

On my abashed brow He set a kiss. 

CONSIDER THE LILIES 

^^^ONSIDER the lilies, O my heart, 
(l^^^j Poor heart, so slow, so late to learn I 
O^t^ Thou more than meat and raiment art j 
"Wilt thou still earthward yearn ? 

Consider the lilies how they grow ; 

O heart, they neither toil nor spin. 
Yet they are clad in robes like snow ; 

Art thou as pure within ? 



85 



"Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass, 
Shall He not clothe thee, as He saith? 

Clothe thee upon with righteousness, 
O thou of little faith? 

Behold the small fowls of the air. 
They sow not, neither do they reap, 

They take no thought, no carking care. 
They neither watch nor weep ; 

And yet the Father f eedeth these — 
O heart, where is thy boasted trust ? 

No more of sloth or doubting case ; 
Arise from out the dust I 

Go, get thee to thy work again ; 

Know thou that verily in the Lord 
Thy labor cannot be in vain : 

Thou shalt have thy reward. 

No sparrow falleth to the earth 
"Without the Father, and thou art 

Than many sparrows of more worth, 
O faithless, foolish heart I 



86 



Therefore take tliou no anxious thought | 
Thy strength shall still be as thy day ; 

The birds and lilies have not wrought. 
But thou art more than they. 

THE QUEST 



V^^ JOURNEYED far to see the King ; my days 

I^j jw\ I spent in weary quests ; by lonely tarns, 

^^J In populous cities, in the wilderness, 

Where the gaunt mountains lift their hoary fronts. 

And where the deserts spread their shifting sands, 

Wandered my fruitless steps. For I was fain 

To see Him in His splendor. His august 

And gracious presence making all the place 

Of His enthronement radiant with light. 

His voice, full fraught with power, I deemed should be 

More sweet than falling waters heard afar. 

Or the warm night-winds whispering in the pines ; 

His luminous eyes beneath His placid brows 

Star-clear should calmly beam on all alike ; 

And from the dais where His feet were set 



87 



Refreshing streams of influence should flow 
To drooping lives. 

Thus day by day I sought 
To come where He might be, but evermore 
The morrow found me still a wayfarer ; 
Till, spent and gray, I turned my hopeless feet 
Down the small street where stood my empty home, 
And there I found Him waiting at my door. 
Not clothed in purple, but in raiment stained 
And travel- worn ; His feet were bare ? His head 
"Was meekly bowed, and on His wasted cheek 
"Were traces as of tears. "Within His hands 
He held no scepter, but a palmer's staff ; 
Yet, as I looked, I knew He was the King, 
For round His brow was girt a crown of thorns. 

THE GOLDEN AGE 

HE morn bursts on us with a song ; 
Night's sable wings are furled ; 
^gg^ The golden age, awaited long, 
Dawns on the weary world. 



88 




Now hoary wrongs shall righted be, 

Love's fillet bind each brow, 
"While Peace the dove, o'er land and sea, 

Shall bear the olive bough, 

Lo, watching eyes, bedimmed with tears, 

"With happiness grow bright ; 
And hearts oppressed with gloomy fears. 

Unfold to catch the light. 
Let every tongue its silence break ; 

No more let battles rage ; 
"While valleys, plains, and hills awake 

To greet the golden age. 

Roll swiftly up, O joyful day, 

Flood all the heavens serene j 
The places where foul dragons lay, 

With rushes shall be green ; 
The lion and the leopard wild 

No more shall maim nor kill, 
"While o'er God's mount a little child 

Shall lead them where he will. 



89 




WEARY 

'HY cry aloud? "Why lift a strenuous voice? 

Better is quiet j better that rapt hour 
"When thou canst feel the large cool night re- 
joice. 
And truth speaks to thee from the dew-lipped flower. 

Rest and be still ; wrapped softly round thy heart, 
Let the sweet silence heal thee like a balm ; 

Forget the praise ; thine is the better part. 

And heaven shall send its whispers through thy calnu 

The world may shout its triumphs from afar, 
Care not j commune apart with thine own soul ; 

Safe from the strife of tongues, the noise of war. 
Let peace like tides of music round thee roll* 

PAIN 



MMET a loathsome beggar on the way. 
Who sued for alms. His unkempt, grizzled hair 
Fell o'er his forehead like a thatch ; his eyes, 
Small, red, and all aflood with rheum, were bent 



90 



With leering supplication on my own. 

Betwixt his wasted palms he held a hat, 

Battered and stained, wherein a few poor coins 

Bespoke the pity wherew^ith passers-by 

Had tossed him their scant dole. About his feet 

Were wisps of straw, and as he bowed he prayed, 

**An alms, kind stranger, for God^s love, an alms.** 

I paused and, sick at heart, regarded all 

The tattered wanderer*s lorn and fallen state. 

And wondered why so foul a blot should rest 

Upon the beauteous day to mar its joy. 

For the birds sang, and flowers were abloom. 

And the white clouds were floating high, and round 

The happy fields, swung by invisible hands, 

A thousand censers yielded rare perfumes. 

Then o'er my soul, like a great billow, rolled 

Divine compassion, and against the grim 

Black night of that vile beggar's woe I saw 

The prosperous noon-tide of my own full life : 

Till sudden shame seized on me, and a pang 

Ne'er felt before pierced through me like a lance. 

And the bright light was dashed from heaven, and o'er 



91 



The smiling earth a darkness fell. "Whereat 
When I was fain to hide me, that I dared 
To quaff the cup of bliss while other lips 
Famished for but one drop, lo I as I looked, 
The wretch before me was transformed, his brow 
Shone with celestial splendor, his deep eyes 
Beamed with unearthly beauty, and his form 
"Was clad in raiment like the sun. I said, 
^'Who art thou?'^ and he answered, **I am Pain, 
And come to teach all selfish lives that love 
Opens the viewless gateway unto peace.'^ 
Then lifting from the dust my dazzled sight, 
I stood alone, and in that moment gazed 
On a new heaven clasping a new earth. 

A HOUSE NOT MADE WITH HANDS 



i 



HIS house, so slowly builded up 
Through seasons dashed with sun and 



This heart that holds as in a cup 
Life's little pleasures mixt with pain ; 



92 



These hands that fumble at their task. 

Or nerveless fall from labors done ; 
This face that hides me like a mask ; 

These feet that age clogs as they run — 
All these shall pass and be no more, 

And that which grew through strenuous days 
Shall like a troubled dream be o'er. 

Nor know again Time's clouded ways. 
But somehow, somewhere, from the night. 

And from the dust, shall surely rise 
That which eludes the grosser sight. 

To seek its home beyond the skies. 



SURRENDER 

^ORD, hast thou for me still some poignant cup. 
Some austere pathway my bruised feet must 
tread, 
Some bitter herbs whereon I yet must sup. 

Some salt tears still wherein to steep my bread ? 



93 




I am not wise, and O, my knees are faint, 

My hands hang down, my soul is parched with drouth; 
Oft to thee have I made my sore complaint, 

And filled with fiery arguments my mouth* 

Now will I hold my peace at thy command, 
And to thee yield my life in patient trust ; 

Yea, I will be the worm within thy hand 
"Wherewith thou beatest mountains into dust* 

DOUBT AND FAITH 

"WAS thus the vision came i the sunset bars 

I Were fading from the west, and gathering gloom 
Veiled the fair landscape ; multitudinous sounds,. 
Born of the night, from valley and from hill 
Rose solemnly* Then saw I where a path 
Wound down a steep declivity till all 
Was inky darkness, save a single star 
That pulsed with brightness o'er the gulf's black void. 
Thither two travellers came, and staid their feet. 
Affrighted to behold the sheer descent 
Whither the pathway plunged. Then was I ware 



94 





How one upon his eyes did clap his hands 
A.nd leap into the night. The other, calm 
With lifted brows and eyes fixed on the star, 
Stepped downward bravely, and the darkness fled 
Before his fearless feet, and on a sodden 
Shining he saw the happy gates of home. 

MYSTERY 

PON the verge of night I walked ; 

Behind me sank the day j 
An wnseen Presence by me stalked 
Along the darkling way. 

The calm and awful stars looked down ; 

"Where icy peaks did rise. 
The boreal aurora's crown 

Paled in the solemn skies. 

Then past the touch of love's warm hand. 
Beyond thought's utmost mete, 

I heard against life's crumbling strand 
Death's sullen billows beat. 



95 




O universe of mystery ! 

In time's vast prison-place, 
Is there not One who holds the key ? 

Shall we not see his face ? 



*'THE CLOUDS ARE THE DUST OF HIS FEET'' 

HE huddled clouds above the hill 
Close darkly down j from dripping 
trees 
The brown leaves flutter to the rill 
And hush their summer symphonies. 

Chill is the morn ; a wandering breath 

Of frost and silence in the night 
Steals forth with solemn hints of death, 

And fills the world with vague affright. 

Yet when the rude north's bitter scath 
Breaks wildly round the smitten year, 

To earth, despite the winter's wrath, 
The sun draws nearer and more near* 



96 



^ 



Thus when, throagh black portents of doom, 
The heart grows sick with dread and dole, 

All tinperceived amid the gloom 
Sweet heaven draws nearer to the soul* 



WASTED 
jETHOUGHT 'twere time enough, when the 



iDried from the herbs, for life's imperious tasks. 



So all the morning, while the golden hours 

Laughed in their happy dance, I chased the midge, 

The thistle-down, the purfled butterfly. 

And gave no heed to duty* Whisperings 

Of solemn import reached mine ears betimes. 

But struck not on my heart. So down the long 

Bright aisles of airy fancies pleasure bore 

My winged feet. Till on a sudden fell 

The sovereign night, inexorably calm, 

"With quenching shadows, when no man can work. 



97 




THE STRICKEN KING 

HE summer sunshine, through the tremulous 
leaves, 

Along the marble floor sowed its bright guks 
Where in his chamber lay the stricken king, 
Wasted, and hollow-eyed, and touched with death. 
About him learned leeches, brought from far, 
Hovered to count each sterterous sigh, each slow 
And fitful pulse-beat, for no potion soothed 
The mortal anguish of his malady. 
Then were the secrets of the oracle 
Consulted, and a solemn voice was heard 
Declaring that whene'er the king should clothe 
His pain-racked body in the shirt of one 
Whose happiness was perfect, from his flesh 
The torment should depart, and health once more 
Flush his wan cheek. So through the kingdom v/ent 
The heralds diligently forth, but found 
None in whose cup of joy no bitter drop 
Was intermingled. Some in secret pined 
From very fullness of delight, since naught 



98 



Was left to wish for j some in wantonness 
Dashed in the dust their honeyed chalices. 
That thus a subtler pleasure they might know 
In striving to regain the perished sweet. 
Discouraged in their quest, the pursuivants, 
"Weary and heavy-hearted, homeward turned 
Their careworn faces. In a dewy vale, 
"Where the cool shadows of the mountains lay. 
And a clear stream made all the solitude 
Glad with its song, a snowy-bearded man. 
Calm-browed and gentle, leaned upon a staff, 
Midway a mossy bridge^ The dusty band. 
Drooping their banners, halted, and once more. 
Languid and hopeless, made their mission known. 
Amazed they listened while the reverend man 
Confessed he knew no want, no grief, no loss. 
And that his happiness was as a sun 
Whose fair effulgence not a cloud distained. 
Then from his horse the captain leaped, and prayed 
The white-haired one to doff his shirt and send 
The garment for the healing of the king. 
Slowly the wrinkled hands were raised to loose 



99 



Lore. 



The fastenings of the tattered cloak^ when, lo I 
The light of day smote on the naked breast 
And the nude showlders of the aged man 
Whom poverty denied a shirt to wear* 



THE SECRET MINISTRIES 

^^^^HILD of My love, I know thy bitter care, 

(i^^^f And that thy weary heart is like to break 

S3 g-^ Betimes, as o'er life's worn and dusty ways 

From day to day thou bearest thy huge load : 

I laid it on thee and I know thy strength ; 

Stern is thy trial, but no feather's weight 

Beyond its limit shall thy sorrow press. 

Nor shalt thou faint, for I will gather thee 

"Within Mine arm's sufficient comforting. 

And breathe a holy courage through thy fears* 

Never will I forsake thee, but will bless 

With secret ministries, until thy bonds 

Are loosed, and the old burden from thee slips. 

At the bright portals of thy Father's house. 



100 



THE ANCHORITE 

P^^^^ERE in the desert where the very thorn 
Pfr^fMl Is dwarfed and shrivelled with the sun's ex- 
l7iftK<5^J cess — 

"Where the gray rocks are flushed beneath the morn. 

And night wraps round their uncouth nakedness 
Her star-lit shadows — still I watch and pray, 
"While the slow hours uncounted creep away. 

Oft with the knotted scourge my rebel flesh 

I chasten in the importunate solitude ? 
Upon my brow the wind breathes sweet and fresh, 

Above the earth the palpitant heavens brood ; 
But still I turn to that dark realm within, 
In agony to wrestle with my sin. 

The vast plain pulsates in the withering heat 
Which rolls athwart the waste sands, wave on wave ; 

Along the barren ridge its billows beat 
About the doorway of my narrow cave ; 

While I, with bruised knees and aching eyes, 

Besiege with prayer the unresponsive skies. 



loi 



On bitter herbs I break my bootless fast. 
And at the brackish pool I stanch my thirjt ; 

I hear old voices from the ghostly past, 
I groan, and weep, and am as one accurst ; 

All night my truss of straw is drenched with tears j 

My spirit faints ; I am consumed with fears. 

O wherewith shall I gird me for my task. 
Or my perfidious pride of life abase ? 

"When from my soul I tear its guilty mask. 
And low in dust hide my unhallowed face, 

E^en then I hear soft whispers from above, 

"While round me hover dreams of human love. 



HEROES 



HE prize of valor in the sanguine fray 
Is sculptured epitaph or ponderous tome, 
^^a^ And for one brief and evanescent day 



A name familiar grown in every home* 



102 




But there is Orfe who recks not of the blare 
Of brazen trump or gilt of graven stone ; 

God cherishes his heroes^ for they dare 
To live obscurely and to die unknown. 

LIFE TRIUMPHANT 

I 

jo scepter sways the dumb and wrinkled earth 
But Death^s ; a monarch he whose hoar domain 
Is boundless ; silent in his equal train 
Meet king and kern alike — love's austere worth 
And folly's crapulous shame ; no thought of birth, 
Of proud or base degree, he taketh ; vain 
He marks all scutcheons, and with calm disdain 
He rends all bonds of blood. By every hearth; 

In every pure and sweet and precious spot 
By human service to man's heart made dear? 

By boreal firths of ice, and by the hot 
And stagnant waters of the torrid mere. 

He hath his subjects. Death ! — where is he not ? 
Where droppeth not the desolate, desperate tear ? 



103 



m 



II 

RAIN-'WASHED barrow in some byway 

green j 
A crumbling tablet sculptured like a cross ; 
A piteous name beleaguered sore with moss, 
And all else tongueless that we once have been : 
O life, flame-winged, is this what thou dost mean ? 
Are all thy gains consumed in one huge loss? 
Is all thy fined gold but dust and dross? 
Is there no seed immortal thou mayst glean 

Amid the waste of tares where thou dost toil? 

Ah, for the arid years of wrong and ruth, 
Of weariness and woe, while ever moil 

The pain-scourged sons of time, — yea, for the truth 
That bitter is the bread wrung from the soil 

In tears, — is there no meed but death, forsooth ? 

m 

[hat lies beyond ? Our tremulous questioning 
Falls answerless on the unpitying air ; 
Earth hath no snow-crowned seer to say 
how fare 




104 



Those sowls 'twixt whom and us forever swing 
The unsunned valves of night. No throbbing wing 
Of angel e^er hath fanned our cheek. O where, 
To what cloud-girdled realm, 'mid love-Iights rare. 
Do our dear travellers go a-journeying? 

No solemn voice hath reached us from the tomb ; 

No spectral hand hath touched us from the dead ; 
No beacon cleaves the void and icy gloom ; 

No word of solace dissipates our dread ; 
All, all is darkness — darkness, silence, doom : 

Whither — ah, whither I — have our heart-twins fled ? 

IV 

HE blind lead not the blind i who shall lead thee, 
Thou orphaned spirit? Whither thou dost go, 
Thou canst not guess ? around thee ever flow. 
As round its islands the importunate sea, 
The mysteries of life and death. No key 
Is thine to open life's shut doors ; for lo I 
Amid the years thou gropest to and fro, 
Thyself unto thyself a mystery. 



105 





Ah, soul I thy seeking hands can never touch 
A substance that endures i the shadows fade, 

As shadows will, within thy very clutch. 
And of the anguished efforts thou hast made 

Thou reapest naught but mockery over-much : 
Yea, fleeting soul, thou, too, art but a shade. 



I HEREIN is life ? Lo, sun and moon and stars 
Are perishing. The valleys and wide hills 
Are clothed with death. The winds and 
plaining rills 
Chant evermore a dirge to dying Mars — 
Dying amid the never-ended wars 

'Twixt light and darkness. Dissolution fills 
The vanishing universe. Life ever kills 
The life it makes. Earth's sanguine avatars 

Are gods that slay the creatures of their breath. 

To slake their mortal lust with stanchless blood. 
Oh, where and what is life ? "Who is it saith. 



lo6 



**l am the life?''— o'er Whom rolled the red flood 
Of the last agony. Life ! — life is death : 

Yea^ flickering soul^ death is thine only good^ 



VI 



K^^S^AY, hearken to thine own voice, O my sottl I 

nff|3jw "What though the raving blasts dismay thee 

M^M here? 

Despite each poignant pang and breathless fear, 

Despite the lampless darkness and the dole. 

Thy tabernacle shall o'erspan the goal 
Of sweet desire ; pain never shall come near 
Thy dwelling-place, nor any longing tear 

Vex thy clear vision while God's eons roll* 

Lo I countless tongues from the perpetual hills. 
And myriad voices from the vaulted sky, 

And the vast deep whose world-wide whisper thrills 
The pulses of the listening spheres on high. 

Mingle their accents in a sound that fills 
The caves of death, ^^Behold, thou shalt not die/' 



107 




VII 

^E shall attain — yea, thottgh this dttst shall 
fail, 
And though all evil things conspire to bind 
The struggling soul with gyves of sense, and blind 
Our faith with clay, and though all foes assail 
To utterly destroy us, yet from wail. 

From misery and from doubt, from all unkind 
False hopes, and from the dwarfed and prisoned mind, 
We shall attain to life beyond the vail. 

Yea, though 'tis written that all flesh is grass. 
Which springeth up at morn and flourisheth, 

And which at even, when th' inverted glass 
Is emptied of its sands, fades as the breath 

The dew-lipped rose sighs on the winds that pass, — 
Yet in our fraility we shall conquer death. 



io8 



S.Uk 



JUL 25 1901 



iiih™?.T ^^ CONGRESS 

016 117 814 7 W m 



?m 



